


Fire Emblem: Three Houses - Glory

by Godzi



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fanfiction, Gen, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24410053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godzi/pseuds/Godzi
Summary: Fire Emblem: Three Houses - Glory is a fanfiction project in which I take extreme creative liberties to rewrite the story, taking a bunch of elements from the game of course, and create a "Golden Route."Byleth is a mercenary who travels the continent of Fodlàn with his father, Jeralt. One day after a group of bandits attacks the village he's staying in, Byleth's fate changes, resulting in him reaching a position in which he's the only thing standing between Fodlàn and its annihilation. Yet he only reaches this point by being recruited as a professor at the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery...
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Year 91

A lone trio of flowers, beaten down both by time and the oppressive rain that fell from the heavens, stood beside a dark puddle of muddy water. The sounds of a thunderstorm echoed throughout the plain as the wind raged on. The petals of the flowers fluttered in the wind, and the puddle vibrated viciously from the raindrops falling into it. The ground was thoroughly soaked from the malicious storm. Rainwater had collected in the divets of the uneven terrain.

A foot came down, crushing the three flowers and uprooting them from where they should have been most safe.

Countless pairs of feet followed the first, plowing through the mud of the Tailtean Plains. Each foot was clad in dirty, silver-colored armor. An eruption of footsteps passed by the grave of the flowers.

Yells of hundreds of soldiers exploded into the air. The sound of metal clanking faintly beneath it. Drenched feathers fell from the pegasi high above. Soldiers sat atop their winged equestrian partners. The pegasi joined their flightless brethren as their neighs added to the hurricane of the sounds of war, drowning out the previous ambience of the rain, wind, and thunder.

Opposite the armored soldiers were erratic rogues. Leather armor and accessories, a far more feral and scrappy stance as they meandered toward their more formal and practiced opponents.

Weapons clashing and flesh slashing. The agonized cries of fallen warriors made for a more terrifying storm than thunder could ever hope to deliver. The soldiers on horseback had more of a height advantage, taking out multiple rogues with successive stabs of their lances. Yet their domination was cut short as an unidentifiable, glowing object hurtled down to them.

“Huh?” a soldier questioned upon seeing the incomprehensible sight.

It crashed into the earth around dozens of paladins, exploding and ending their lives. A blazing aura strong enough to not be extinguished by rain emanated from the epicenter of the attack, burning more soldiers along its path. After the damned souls ceased their screaming, a behemoth of a man with gray hair and bulging muscles, dressed like the rogues, fell upon the spot in which his attack previously connected.

His fist struck the ground along with his knee and a foot, making a small crater around the imposing man. He cast his face upward, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness around him. A nearby soldier who had miraculously survived the attack muttered with his dying breath, “Nem...esis…”

The weapon that caused the explosion from before, a sword with serrated edges and jagged details, the color of bone, was unsheathed from the ground beside Nemesis. A paladin outside the range of attack recognized the threat before him, and he led a battalion toward the powerful warrior. Nemesis’ sword glowed with a burning light as he continued to engage the soldiers in battle.

Several similar lights shined all throughout the battlefield as the war raged on. The allies of Nemesis engaged in battle using their own other-worldly weapons.

A heavily-armored knight on horseback wielding a sharpened lance with decorative spines. As the great knight pierced his opponents, the spines twitched as if they were ligaments on his sentient spear. His pale-white horse’s hooves were dirtied by the sloppy earth and the blood of its master’s enemies. He galloped up and down the field leaving fissures in his wake as he cut down his opponents. A soldier with a longsword engaged him, and so the great knight galloped in circles around him, energy building in his lance before he unleashed a devastating shockwave at his foe.

A woman on a pegasi high in the sky wielding a silver sword and glowing shield danced around her armored foes. She deflected the attacks of her opponents with ease as she slashed at them. A large soldier on a wyvern cut through the sky as he waved his axe at the falcon knight. The woman raised her shield to deflect the attack. His axe recoiled from the shield and caused the man to fall backwards off his mount, falling to his inevitable doom. She was the absolute ruler of the sky, her pegasus as her throne.

A slick and graceful paladin glazed around the rough ground leaving sparkles of white magic in his wake. The holy knight’s fingers glistened with a gleaming aura. Countless corpses surrounded the knight and his steed, and he was charging toward another group of soldiers to create more. The soldiers in his sight spotted him and reacted to his charge. They faced him like a wall, intending to open at the last second, and slay the knight. Yet he wasn’t so foolish. He patted the left side of his horse twice as he unbound the sleek, glowing lance from behind his back. He leaped from his partner as he approached his targets. Surprised, his foes attempted to react to his movements, only to be met with the horse stamping them in their chests with its back hooves. The knight controlled his horse as if he was riding a chariot, and finished off his foes with a luminescent pierce as he met the earth.

Battles such as these existed all throughout the plains as the skilled warriors of Nemesis’ army engaged with their foes. Axes and lances collided as the soldiers and rogues continued to fight.

A small group of rogues, led by one wearing a horned helmet, charged toward an equally small group of soldiers.

A green-haired woman with a headdress adorned by bronze-colored dragon wings and flowers decorating her verdant hair stood at the head of said group of soldiers. She gave off an aura of importance, suggested by her regal armor and white cloak.

The rogue with the horned helmet lifted his axe and unleashed a leaping attack at the group of soldiers, his cape shaking with the wind and the momentum of his jump. He aimed for the green-haired woman, yet a knight at her side intercepted the attack. A power struggle began between the knight and the rogue as they pushed their weapons against each other. The knight broke the rogue’s guard and continued battling him.

A different knight fell in battle beside the woman, grunting, “Lady Seiros!” as he fell. Mud recoiled from the ground as the knight made impact with its cold grip.

Seiros did not look at her fallen soldier, she only looked onward, at the gruff man with the unorthodox sword. Nemesis was battling one of her knights, who he bested with ease. Rain had soaked this man as well as every other on the battlefield. The paths the raindrops made as they raced down his face mimicked the vertical scars over his left eye. He turned toward Seiros, and made eye contact with her.

She kept her gaze locked on the man. A wide open area had formed around the two from the consequences of war. Many soldiers looked at the terrifyingly-powerful man from behind Seiros.

The storm ended at last, and the sun shined on Seiros’ face. The sunlight traveled from behind the clouds, and as it reached Nemesis, he attacked.

With a flick of his sword, it segmented and became more akin to a whip than a blade. A red aura flowed from the weapon as he swung it around. He wiped out the hundreds of soldiers looking at him with one earth-shattering swipe.

Seiros’ face distorted with anger as she drew a sword, filled to the brim with her magic. A matching shield was attached to her left forearm. Her piercing stare drilled through the space between her and the man with the strange weapon. A few deep breaths and few light paces, then she began to run toward her target. Mud splattered from beneath her soles.

Nemesis retracted his sword as Seiros ran toward him. Seiros leapt into the air, attempting to strike at the man, who in turn blocked her attack. He stayed standing while Seiros crouched upon landing. She continued charging at him, swinging her lustrous, twisted sword at him, never giving him a chance to counterattack. All he could do was defend as Seiros unleashed a flurry of swift strikes against him.

He finally saw an opening, he swung, then a second opening and second swing, and with them he managed to make Seiros retreat a few paces from him. Her feet landing on the soaked ground made mud splatter yet again. She looked at him with unbridled rage for a moment more, and charged at him again.

Their swings collided over and over, neither side making progress in their fight. Seiros parried a swing from the man with her shield and counterattacked immediately. Nemesis was faster than expected and their weapons collided.

The two warriors grinded their weapons against each other, the man grinning at Seiros with an evil growl and piercing glare, while Seiros looked back with her same angered expression. Nemesis got the better of her and disconnected her weapon from his own.

He kicked at Seiros and made her evade back, then unleashed his sword as a whip once more. He swung, aiming for Seiros’ stomach, she avoided it with minimal movement, yet just barely. He swung again, and she rolled underneath the eye-level attack. Mud staining her clothes and shoes entirely.

Nemesis unleashed a third swing that connected with Seiros’ sword, and wrapped around it like a vice. She had an expression of disbelief as she noticed what happened. Thinking around it, and to Nemesis’ surprise, she discarded her sword behind her, and his sword went with it.

Her opponent now weaponless, Seiros charged at Nemesis. She struck his face with an open palm, and followed it up by jumping and kicking him in the same spot, knocking him down.

He laid on the cold ground as Seiros drew a knife and darted to him. He tried to get up but was met with her holding him down, her knife pointed at his throat. Both of the tired warriors were grunting.

With a sinister, aggravated tone, Seiros interrogated him, “Tell me, Nemesis. Do you recall the Red Canyon?”

Seiros’ twisted face reflected in Nemesis’ yellow eyes as he finally opened them. He grunted in shock at the sight of her knife. He gave no other answer.

She raised the knife and screamed, “You’ll die for that!” She plunged the knife into Nemesis’ body, who groaned in pain.

“Die! Die!” A second stab and his groaning turned into a bubbling sound of saliva and blood in his throat. Seiros’ face twisted beyond human recognition. “You took...everything...that I loved!” A third stab. Seiros was now the only one breathing heavy as she snuffed the life out of Nemesis.

The allies of Nemesis, defeated, viewed the aftermath of their leader’s loss with shocked expressions. Seiros’ allies, on the other hand, viewed it with proud smiles.

Seiros looked at the corpse of her nemesis, and then turned to her army, who were cheering for her victory. Her silver sword laid on the ground beside the bloodied sword of Nemesis.

She lifted his sword, and held it up to her face, closing her eyes, blood staining her hand and cheek. “He’s gone now, Mother…” she said.

She lowered the sword, and opened her eyes.


	2. The Girl on the Throne

A multi-colored vortex swirls in and out of existence. It appears as if every aspect of nature were blending, melding together into a vibrant portal to a higher plane. The vortex fades, allowing the man on the other side of it to see a girl sitting on a throne.

The girl sitting on the engraved, stone throne leans on her elbow, cast away into slumber. Everything about her chants of royalty. She is adorned in intricately-woven purple robes, decorated with black and gold accents. Her clothes are fit for a goddess with golden regalia wrapped around her waist, hanging like drapery resting on her bare legs. A similar piece sits on her head as if it were a crown. Her extraordinarily long green hair flows from her head and down the throne. It appeared as if nature itself wrapped around her body the way her hair enveloped her. Her face was shrouded in the shadows of the unfamiliar place. 

A high-pitched grumble escaped her lips as she rose from her slumber. Light shone on her face, revealing white and pink ribbons tying her hair into braids that slung over her shoulders. She had pointed ears and large green eyes. The girl yawned in a refined manner and rubbed the drowsiness from her eyes. The incoherency of unconsciousness left her behind as she stared with intrigue at the figure in front of her, one phrase escaping her lips.

“Oh my. What could have brought you here?”

The girl on the throne uttered this phrase at the silhouette before her, who in response to the question, moved forward. A dark blue-haired man with a stoic expression. He wears a long, dark cloak with a luster that reveals it as armor. Half of him still in the shadows, the girl spoke again.

“I wonder how you got in here… It is most rude to interrupt a moment of repose,” she yawned. “Very rude indeed.” Without waiting for further response, the girl continues, “Now come to me. I wish to have a look at you.”

The expressionless man walked fully into the light of her domain. His eyes that matched his hair didn’t reflect the otherworldly light that was cast upon him. A small dagger hung from his belt, sheathed. He gave off a blazing aura despite his chilling presence. He looked up at the girl with his empty eyes.

“Hmm… I have not seen the likes of you before. Who are you, anyway?” the green-haired girl questioned.

The man took what might as well have been an eternity of hesitation to respond…yet all he could muster was, “I….”

“Do not fear me, I’ve no desire to hurt you,” the girl reassured him.

The man glazed his eyes around the room that was so alien to him. After a brief pause, the man responds, “I...I’m a mortal…”

“I see. Then you must have a name of sorts,” the girl told him as if his answer were obvious to her. “Go on.” 

Another moment of hesitation. The girl reassures him again, “I realize you may not be of sound mind currently, do take your time.”

Hardly a moment goes by after her reply before the man answers her, “I am known....as Byleth.”

The girl giggled slightly before regaining her composure. “Huh. I shall not ever grow accustomed to the sound of human names…. You must possess a day of birth as well. Beneath which moon and on what day were you born to this world?”

With all hesitation behind him, Byleth answers, “That would be...the 27th day of the Wyvern Moon.”

The girl appears shocked by his answer, “Well, wonders never cease! It seems we share our day of birth. How strange!” She giggles, “I do see you are not quite as distant as I had expected. I wonder, was that a conscious decision on your part, or is this really your true personality?” Byleth returns to his silence from before, as the vortex slowly fades back in.

Tiredness returns to the girl. “Hmm. It all feels so...familiar. I think it may be time for...yet another nap… It almost...time to...begin….”

The vortex returns in its enchanting entirety. Byleth fades from this realm as the girl drifts back into her slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait between chapters, and double sorry for the short length of this one! Sometimes life just grabs your attention and you end up wasting time a lot. That's exactly what happened to me after all. I'll try to be more conscious about releasing future chapters at a regular, and more frequent rate. There's still very few differences up to this point I realize, but don't worry, starting next chapter they'll start coming in full force! I hope you all enjoyed my more or less adaptation of Byleth's and Sothis' first interaction! Side note: I apologize if you were expecting this fanfic to follow female Byleth, but male Byleth works far better for the story I plan to tell here. I hope it becomes more obvious as the story continues. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -Godzi


	3. Premonitions

A light wind rustles the branches outside, and shakes the loose glass of the nearest window. A woman with light-green hair stands beside it, staring out into the beautiful valleys outside. She wears a long white dress, with a beautifully crafted robe over the top of it. A regal headdress with gold and blue accentuations adorns her head, with white flowers in her hair. Her long hair reaches down behind her back, almost to her knees. Her eyes, matching her hair, glimmer in the fading light of the sun as it starts to rain.

The woman sighs and turns from the window. As she does, a nearby door opens as a man with green hair enters. “Rhea, are you there?” his voice calls.

She responds, “Yes, Seteth. I am here.”

The green-haired man, called Seteth, enters the room. His hair is long for a man, reaching down below his jaw. His thin beard makes it appear as if his whole face is surrounded by a mane. He wears similarly regal clothes to Rhea, blue with golden accents. A matching cape flutters behind him from the wind of the door. He holds a small stack of books in his arms, and heads over to the nearest table to set them down.

His dark green eyes hold a stern expression as he looks at Rhea. He questions her, “You seem down, Rhea. Is there something bothering you?”

“Nothing is doing so, Seteth. I’ve just had a feeling lately...no, never mind.” Rhea shakes her head and turns back to the window.

“I will not pry, but you may confide in me if you desire,” Seteth attempts to comfort her.

“I appreciate the offer, Seteth. I just wonder…” she raises her hand onto the window. “The sun is so bright that it can even break through the darkest clouds. No matter how tumultuous it may get down here, the sun is always there to signal the end of a negative time…”

“You make a fascinating point, Rhea. But what brought this on? Do you feel a storm coming?”  
“Hmm, in a sense. I don’t know how I should label these feelings I have. It feels like something bad is going to happen, yet simultaneously…”

Seteth interrupts her, “You feel as if something good will happen too?”

Rhea shakes her head. “Not quite. I feel more as if...something I lost will come back to me.”

Seteth chuckles slightly, “Let us hope you’re a prophet then, Rhea.”

“I’m not sure I’d want something bad to happen in exchange for me finding something I misplaced, Seteth.”

“Of course, that may not be a fair trade. But fate can be cruel. We’ve bore witness to that several times.” Seteth sulks, reminiscing.

“And we’ll likely see it happen countless more times,” Rhea says as she turns from the window, eyeing the books Seteth brought in. “These books, might they be in preparation for the new year?”

“Indeed they are. They are profiles of each new student attending the Officers Academy this year. Details of their family bloodline, Crests, history, and even their likes and dislikes,” Seteth responds eagerly. “There’s also a few documents that the knights had written as advice to the new students.”

Rhea lifts the profile that sits on top of the pile and skims its contents. The name on the first page reads “Edelgard von Hresvelg.”

“My! These profiles are dense with information! Is each student this year so extraordinary?”

Seteth strokes his beard, “Many are, however you so happened to lift the profile of one of the more accomplished students by chance. Some have a lot less to their name, but as usual, each and every student attending the Officers Academy will leave a good mark on the school. They’re all special in their own ways.”

Rhea shuts the profile and sets it back on the table. “I shall read these in my spare time. It is vital that I inform myself on the students, after all,” Rhea smiled.

“That brings me to a troubling topic however,” Seteth grumbles. “The knight who was supposed to be the general combat professor, Leonard Ashdown, has gone missing on a recent mission. It appears we will need to find a replacement for him.”

“On such short notice? That may not be possible…” Rhea frowns.

“Perhaps we could request one of the other knights? I’m sure Alois, or perhaps Catherine will be happy to assist you.”

“They’re busy enough as is, but if we’re unable to find someone, I do think I will resort to that option. I will pray for Leonard’s safety, wherever he is, that he may find his way back to us.” Rhea pauses as she folds her hands together. “If it hasn’t been done already, have a search party sent out to locate Leonard.”

“Understood. I will make haste then.”

Seteth darted from the room, papers flying off the nearby table as he left. Rhea turns back to the window, a storm in full force terrorizes nature’s beauty.

“Oh how I hope harm doesn’t befall you, Mother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't lie when I said that differences would be coming in full force this chapter. I hope you all enjoyed this first original scene that wasn't present in the game! Like I've said previously, I am going to be taking a ton of creative liberties with this fanfiction, and this chapter is meant to plant the seeds of some of the major differences that there are going to be between this work and the original game. Truth be told, I wasn't the biggest fan of Rhea in the original game, but I hope I still managed to create a believable discussion between her and Seteth. This chapter originally had a completely different purpose but honestly, it was VERY BAD at first. It didn't spark interest at all, and made little sense as to why it existed. Perhaps in another chapter or two I will explain why it was so bad initially, since doing so now would spoil the next two chapters. 
> 
> I'm going to try to post a new chapter every other Thursday sometime between 11am and 1pm EST, and don't worry, as we get further into the story, chapters will become progressively longer, I just wanted to start out with more bite-sized chapters so they're easier to read and make this fanfiction for palatable for new readers. 
> 
> With that being said, I hope you're all looking forward to chapter 4 in two weeks!


	4. Three Youths

“Hey. Time to wake up.” A raspy voice echoes in Byleth’s ears after the vortex lets him go. He opens his eyes to see his father standing over him.

Jeralt Eisner stands in the middle of a small, one room house. His orange cloak rests on him like a ragged rug slung over a chair. He sets down a small cup on the table and proceeds to sit down. The dim morning light permeating through the windows reflects off of Jeralt’s armored shoulders. He turns his scar-covered face toward Byleth, his lone, dirty blonde braid flying behind him. 

“Were you having that dream again?” Jeralt asks his son, scratching his head, shaven on the sides with more on top. He takes another drink from his cup, some of the liquid getting stuck in his beard which he promptly, yet roughly wipes away with his arm.

“Yes...I was dreaming about a young girl…” Byleth responds with low energy, appropriate for a young adult who has only just woken up.

“You’ve described her to me before,” Jeralt swirls his drink around, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like that.” Jeralt finishes his drink and leaves the cup on the table as he rises from his seat. “In any case, just put that out of your mind for now. The battlefield is no place for idle thoughts. Risking your life is part of the job for mercenaries like us. Letting your mind wander is a sure way to get yourself killed.”

Byleth nods with understanding, still slightly dazed.

Jeralt adjusts his armor as he walks over to his bed to grab a bag. “OK, time to get moving. Our next job is in the Kingdom,” Jeralt pulls a map out of his bag to show his son, “I told you before, it’s far from here, so we’ll need to leave at dawn.”

“Of course,” Byleth responds with as much enthusiasm as the tired son could muster. He turns to grab his sword that he left beside his bed when a loud knock is heard at the door.

“Hm? Good grief. Everyone is already waiting for us outside,” Jeralt grumbles.

The door flies open as a mercenary enters the house, panicked. “Jeralt! Sir! Sorry to barge in, but your presence is needed.”

Jeralt responds seriously, “What’s happened?”

The mercenary fidgets as he addresses Jeralt, “There’s some kids outside, it seems like they’re in trouble.”

“Alright. Come along Byleth, let’s see what this is all about.”

“Yes, father.” Byleth follows his father and the mercenary outside over to a group of three kids. One is a girl clad in red with long white hair, holding an axe twice her size. Another is a boy with blonde hair and a sturdy build, wearing blue clothes that resemble the girl’s. He holds a slightly damaged lance at his side. The last is a boy with darker skin than the other two, curly brown hair, and a braid falling in front of his face. He wears yellow clothes with the same motif as the other two with a bow strung over his back and a quiver tied to his hip.

“Please forgive our intrusion. We wouldn’t want to bother you were the situation not dire,” the blonde boy announces to Jeralt, bowing to show his respect.

“What do a bunch of kids like you want at this hour?” Jeralt questions the trio.

“We’re being pursued by a group of bandits. I can only hope that you will be so kind as to lend your support,” the blonde boy responds, bowing yet again.

“Bandits? Here?” Jeralt is in disbelief at the situation.

“It’s true. They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp,” the white-haired girl adds.

“We’ve been separated from our companions and we’re outnumbered. They’re after our lives...not to mention our gold,” the brown-haired boy jokes.

“Claude! Now isn’t the time for jokes!” the blonde boy reprimands his friend.

“Hey, calm down Dimitri, I’m just trying to lighten the mood. But you’re probably right, I’ll save my breath for now,” the boy named Claude says.

“You make it sound like you’re upset, Claude. Do you really not understand the situation that YOU got us in?” the white-haired girl grumbles. 

“Woah, calm down Edelgard...is what I would say, but maybe you’ll put your anger to good use in battle? Just pretend that the bandits are me as you cave their skulls in. I don’t mind, as long as you don’t attack the real me,” Claude laughs as Dimitri and Edelgard glare at him.

Jeralt is put at ease. “I’m impressed you’re staying so calm considering the situation,” Jeralt looks up and down at the group of kids, and his eyes go wide when he notices something familiar about them, “Wait. That uniform…”

Before he can ask, another mercenary runs up to the crowd, almost out of breath. “Bandits spotted just outside the village. Damn… There are a lot of them.”

Jeralt sighs. “I guess they followed you all the way here.” He turns toward Byleth. “We can’t abandon this village now. Come on, let’s move. Hope you’re ready.” Byleth nods in response.

“Remember Edelgard, your anger will be a great asset against these bandits,” Claude jokes. Edelgard and Dimitri sigh...

...and the group sets out to battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well goddamn it, it's been over a month since the last chapter again. I initially intended for this chapter to be longer, but I decided to release a shorter chapter instead so I could get it out faster once I actually got back to working on this. We all know that life can be weird sometimes, and make us forget about things for weeks on end...so yeah...
> 
> Either way, next chapter we get to the prologue battle. Hope you're all looking forward to it! :)


	5. The First Battle

Light flickers over the horizon, a cool morning breeze rustles the leaves of the trees. The usual calm atmosphere of Remire Village is unknowingly hanging by a thread…

The group of five stand ready for battle as they observe the town around them from the top of a hill. Jeralt, now mounted on his trusted steed, breaks the silence.

“Which direction are the bandits in?”

“We ran here from the north, so if I were to guess…” Dimitri gazes around the north end of the village, “I’d assume that they’re somewhere around that watchtower.” Dimitri points at a tower standing due north of the group.

“Then, if they’re going to try and fight us there, I vote we sneak through the woods and attack them from behind,” Edelgard suggests.

“I appreciate you trying to think of a scheme, Edelgard, but look closer,” Claude points at the woods Edelgard mentioned. “That patch of woods is the only one we’d be able to get to without the bandits spotting us, and as you can see, it’s a small, isolated patch. We’d get nowhere with that.”

“It could act as cover for us, however. Don’t be so quick to discount the geography just because it doesn’t work perfectly in your favor,” Jeralt explains, “The bandits do have a lot of vision from their position, so if a sneak attack is impossible…”

“Then we lure them to our advantageous position.” Byleth finishes his father’s thought.

“Exactly. If we can lure the bandits to the woods, then we can easily wipe them out by using the trees to our advantage. Our only alternative is to simply overpower them in the open field.” Jeralt continues explaining.

“So then, that’s our game plan. Claude, perhaps you could be the bait?” Edelgard jokes.

“Woah, woah! Now hold on a second! I didn’t agree to letting myself be bandit food!” Claude exclaims as Edelgard and Dimitri laugh.

“Then let’s move out. Let’s take care of those thieves before they overrun the village. I’ll go on ahead.” Jeralt dashes down the hill at high speeds on his horse, leaving the other four behind.

Byleth stands with the three youths, watching Jeralt become smaller in the distance.

“Let’s get going.” Byleth asserts.

The four warriors run down the hill after Jeralt, who has stopped behind a hastily-built wall nearby the watchtower. Upon catching up to him, Jeralt halts them. “A few bandits broke off from the main group. We’ll have to take them down if we’re going to reach the woods and execute our plan,” he gestures at the wall. 

Dimitri leans against the wall and peers through a hole in one of the boards, “There’s two bandits just beyond the wall. As far as numbers are concerned, we should be able to take them out.”

“We’ll need to be careful though, this wall isn’t exactly a solid barrier. They might be able to see us through some of the larger gaps in it…” Edelgard ponders. “If only there was a way to take them out from this side, or at least to lure them away from this area so we could reach the woods…”

“Well, this looks like a job for me!” Claude says as he whips out his bow and an arrow from his quiver, approaching a large gap in the wall.

“Claude, what are you-” Dimitri gets cut off as Claude shoots an arrow through a gap in the wall. The sound of pierced flesh and a muffled shout is heard.

The other bandit is heard yelling, “They’re here! They’re here!” But his screams are cut off as Claude shoots a second arrow through another gap in the wall. 

“If only I shot the second guy quicker, he wouldn’t have called for help. Damn it,” Claude sighs.

“You didn’t...shoot them in the neck, did you?” Edelgard questions.

“Oh, of course not. I shot them in their mouths. Shuts ‘em up faster.”

“Remind me to never make you mad, Claude.” Dimitri looks at the ground. “How did you think to do that?”

Claude laughs, “I realize this isn’t your forte, Dimitri, but as an archer, you need to be aware of your surrounding geography, and know how to use it to your advantage. Even something as simple as this here wall can provide an advantage.”

“That almost sounds like a prepared response! I was thinking it was just another one of your schemes,” Edelgard remarks.

“Oh, no! It was a scheme. Being aware of my surroundings allows me to create even grander schemes, even on the fly,” Claude winks as he hoists his bow over his shoulder.

“Either way, our path is clear. We’ll advance while protecting ourselves from the enemy. Take up position inside the forest.” Jeralt commands before moving forward.

Edelgard and Dimitri move onward, but just as Byleth attempts to follow them, Claude speaks up. “It’s because of you guys that I’m not dead right now… Thanks for that!” He grins.

“It’s...not an issue. It’s my duty to protect.”

Claude stares, wide-eyed at Byleth, then laughs, “I didn’t expect to run into mercenaries like you in some remote village! The gods of fortune must be smiling on me!” Claude walks ahead of Byleth. “C’mon, let’s win this battle.”

Byleth nods, and the two run forward to catch up with the others.

“Remember the plan. We’ll advance from inside the forest to protect ourselves from the enemy. Move forward with caution,” Jeralt asserts. The four soldiers at his command nod, and follow him into the woods.

The five proceed slowly, making sure to create as little noise as possible, in case any bandits are hiding around the corner. “I’m aware that the plan is to lure the bandits to our position, but how should we go about getting them over here?” Dimitri asks.

“Obviously, we’re going to scream until our lungs burst to get their attention,” Claude jokes.

“Are we not going to have Claude bait them with arrows?” Edelgard says with a subtly snide expression.

“That’d be a possible waste of resources. We already know that the bandits have spread out far and wide in this area, and their comrades from before just shouted for help. Chances are a good number of bandits will come to our position just from that,” Jeralt explains.

As if on cue, a branch snaps against the ground nearby. A bandit is searching through the woods for their colleague. The group hides.

“This is a fine opportunity. Byleth, use the combat arts I taught you!” Jeralt tells his son.

Byleth nods, and silently takes up position behind a nearby tree.

“What is he going to do?” Dimitri asks.

“I’m not sure, but something tells me that it’s going to be a spectacle,” Claude replies.

Byleth eyes his prey, the bandit unknowingly getting closer to his demise. Just as the bandit senses someone watching him, Byleth silently, and swiftly as the wind sneaks up behind the barely suspecting rogue.

The bandit turns abruptly, letting out a shout like an eruption.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAaahh-”

His shout is cut short as Byleth spins gracefully, hopping slightly off the ground and slicing his blade against the rogue’s neck. His head is detached from his body, blood gushing like a murky river out of his throat. The bandit’s body falls to the ground with a thud.

“Nicely done,” Jeralt congratulates his son.

“That was impressive! How did you move so silently with all the brush on the ground?” Edelgard wonders.

“Oh Edelgard, you amateur. If he moved silently, the bandit would’ve never seen him at all!” Claude smirks.

“You say that as if it’s a damning mistake. Wasn’t the point of unmasking his presence to have the bandit scream, and attract more bandits to this location?” Dimitri suggests.

“Yes, that was my intention, but…”

Byleth’s thought is finished by his father. “With two ear-splitting screams coming from the same location, the bandits might choose to have all their numbers close in on our position.”

“Depending on their numbers, that could prove fatal for us!” Edelgard worries.

In the distance, a storm of battle cries crescendos into the sky. Dozens of feet crashing against the earth sounds like a landslide from that distance. The bandits are making a beeline for the woods.

“Uh...guys? There’s a lot of people coming…” Claude frets.

“We still have the advantage, don’t get discouraged, just lift your weapon, and fight as best as you can! Stay nearby your allies to intimidate them. If they’re discouraged, the fight will be pushed even more in our favor!” Jeralt gives advice to the four warriors at his disposal. 

“Well yeah, that’s great, but we’re still kinda outnumbered by at least 10 to 1.” Claude complains.

“No, we aren’t. Look behind you.” Jeralt tells the group.

The four look behind them as a stampede of mercenaries runs by them, pushing forward through the woods to meet the bandits in battle. Their numbers were still not equal, but nevertheless, the morale of the group rose.

“With these numbers, this should be simple!” Edelgard brandishes her axe.

“I’m starting to feel more confident about this battle, it appears we’re at an overwhelming advantage!” Dimitri raises his lance.

“We may still be outnumbered, but that’s nothing that a little...thinking on our feet...can’t level out…” Claude twirls an arrow in his hand.

A glint of determination shines in Byleth’s eyes. He puts a closed fist to his chest as he tightens his grip on his sword.

From atop his steed, Jeralt points his lance forward and bellows, “Move out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one week late this time...just one...
> 
> This chapter was initially going to be the entire first battle, but I decided to split this fight into two chapters due to all the ideas for it I had. So next chapter, we'll see the conclusion of this first battle. Hope you're excited.


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